


There, next to you

by harold_styles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Harry in Love, M/M, Modern Era, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Short, Short & Sweet, The X Factor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26603791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harold_styles/pseuds/harold_styles
Summary: Louis is right there.Harry just can’t do anything these days.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	There, next to you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I know I've got a fic to upload, but this idea came into my head and I wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy!

Louis is _right_ _there_. 

Harry just can’t do anything these days. 

He wakes up and Louis is there, every morning, freshly out of the shower with a towel around his waist and impossibly sharp hips and so much skin that Harry has to rush to the bathroom as soon as the other boy step out of it, terrified that he will trip on his way there and fall dick-first into the floor. Then Louis would come to his aid and, again, would be just  _ there _ , bending above him, putting his hands on Harry’s body to help him get up and, god, the image is already too much too soon. 

Harry goes to prepare his breakfast and Louis is there, with two bowls of cereal already on the table like it means nothing and his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone as he scrolls through who knows how many texts and notifications from horny teenage girls who would pay to get into his pants (Harry is so not one of them). He sits down, then, and Louis is there smiling at him and asking how he slept, as if he didn’t know. As if he wasn’t aware that when Harry closes his eyes, Louis is there too. Louis and his voice and his face and his perfect, hand-carved body that fits behind Harry like a second skin, like the missing piece to the puzzle that is Harry’s own body. 

Harry goes out at night with the boys and Louis is there, one of the boys, and that is perhaps the most horrible thing of all because he is so  _ not _ one of them. Harry gets drunk and Louis is there, pushing the drinks away from him and assuring that Harry is just the perfect amount of drunk: not drunk enough to black out but drunk enough to let loose. Harry pushes into the crowd and moves his body to a rhythm that beats differently in his head, and Louis is there, somehow hearing the same music as he does, grinding the front of his body against the back of Harry’s, hands firmly on Harry’s hips, whispering how much fun this all is in Harry’s ears as if he was completely unaware of the shivers running down Harry’s back. And when Harry throws up later, with Louis’ right hand holding back the messy brown curls and his left hand drawing soft circles on Harry’s back, Harry knows it’s not the alcohol turning his stomach upside down. 

Harry turns around, gets up, sits down, dances, trips, falls, breathes and Louis is  _ there _ . 

Until he’s not. 

Until the boys are no longer the boys, but just boys. Until Harry wakes up to an empty apartment, an empty bowl, no shy smiles or good mornings, no towels around waists or rushed apologies on his way to the bathroom. Until getting drunk is no longer done in bars, until only the cold is responsible for the shivers down his back. 

Until weeks, and then months, and then years go by, no sign of a quick call, a cheeky tweet, a short text to ask what’s up. 

Harry thinks it’s time to give up. 

And then, just then, he understands. It takes him about half an hour to book a flight. It takes him about two days to get where he is now, standing in front of Louis’ door with only a small bag to his side and a million thoughts. He knocks on the door. Knock, knock, knock. 

And Louis is there again, opening the door, asking what the fuck Harry is doing at his doorstep with wide eyes like he’s never been so surprised before in his life. Suddenly, all of Harry’s carefully thought plan goes to shit because Louis is there, standing with a frown and not looking particularly happy at seeing his ex-best friend who he hasn’t heard of for years except probably from the news, and Harry thinks  _ fuck _ and wonders what the hell he had expected to happen. But he mans up (or as much as one can man up when one is already a man) and asks if he can come in. Louis says yes, a confused look on his face, and gestures for Harry to come in. 

Harry, because all his courage flies away as soon as Louis asks him what he is doing there to his face, says he doesn’t know. That he was around, and decided to pop by. Just, you know, make a visit to his ex-bandmate and possible love of his life (he doesn’t say it like that). So Louis, because he’s such a gentleman, tells him he’s fucking lost his mind but to sit down and he’ll bring some hot tea. 

When he comes back and sits down, Harry just loses it. He tells Louis he’s been stressed out his mind for weeks and that he wants to escape for a few days, and if he could just  _ please _ stay in with Louis for a few days. It’s embarrassing, and a lie, and he feels pathetic and selfish and stupid all at the same time but he just  _ needs _ , so bad, to be close to Louis again. At least for a few days. Louis, surprisingly, doesn’t tell him to fuck off, but instead puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and tells him he understands, and that he’s welcomed to stay. 

It’s already late. Louis offers Harry some leftover pizza, but he can’t think of eating right now, so he says he’d rather go to bed now. Louis shows him to his spare room. That night Harry lays awake staring at the ceiling and rewatching memories in his head, imagining there is still a world in which he could walk to Louis’ room and tell him he can’t sleep, so that Louis would open his arms to invite him in, and Harry would follow, letting himself be enveloped by the warmth of Louis’ body against his back, relishing in the tight feeling in his stomach and the kind of sleepiness that comes from feeling so much at peace in a place. But he can’t do that anymore, can he? He’s lost it forever. He falls asleep.

  
  


He wakes up and Louis has made breakfast. He has made banana pancakes in just the way that Harry likes. He says good morning with a big smile and Harry feels like kissing him. And it’s been so long since he had to restrain himself from kissing Louis that he feels almost happy with the inability to do it. He sits down at the table that has two bowls of cereal, and feels elated. He talks to Louis about his new album, and how much he loved it, and Louis seems genuinely surprised that Harry has even listened to it. 

“You do know…?” he begins, but then shuts up, like he almost said something without thinking. Harry didn’t even know Louis had filters. 

“Know what?” he asks, excited to know anything at all that Louis thinks Harry knows but probably doesn’t. 

“You know” Louis lets out a shaky breath. “About the songs”

Harry is confused, and says he doesn’t, and Louis frowns but changes topic. He tells Harry his new album is great, too, and what his favourite song in it is. Which is ironic, because the song is about him, even if he doesn’t know it. Or does he? Maybe he does, and doesn’t care, but Harry thinks Louis couldn’t be that cruel, would never be. 

They talk about nothing and everything, about the other boys and what they’re doing, about their families, their friends, until Louis asks: 

“Are you dating anyone?”

And Harry feels something like hope bubble on his chest, though Louis must just be asking out of curiosity. “No, I'm not. Are you?”

“No,” Louis says immediately. He hesitates, then adds: “Not anymore”

Harry doesn’t want to know, but it seems rude not to ask now, so he does. Louis seems nervous.

“Was dating a bloke for a few months this year, but… well, the album was coming and I just couldn’t… you know, risk it”

And here’s the thing, Harry knew Louis was gay. He knew he’d gone out with his fair share of guys in the past, but he’d never really  _ said it _ , not out loud, not to Harry at least. Harry tried to seem unaffected, and quickly tried to come up with a joke or something to lighten the mood. 

“That sucks,” he said instead.

“Yeah, kind of tired of the whole publicity thing, you know,” Louis says, and his eyes are covered with a sadness so deep Harry wants to hold him close and never let him go. “Especially when the album I made is so…”

“So?”

“You know”

“You keep saying that,” Harry chuckles. “But I don’t”

Louis seems to consider his next words for a minute. “Hazza,” he says, kicking the air out of Harry’s lungs. “I can’t do this again”

“Do what?” Harry whispers, still breathless at hearing his old nickname. “And don’t say  _ you know _ ”

Louis shakes his head. “I’m going back to bed,” he says, standing up and leaving the room. 

Harry stays still for a second, too shocked to do anything. What did Louis mean? That he doesn’t want to be friends again? Does he want Harry to leave him alone?

Harry can’t take the silence, the unsaid words, not anymore, not again. So he stands up as well and heads towards Louis’ room. 

Louis is sitting at the edge of the bed, bent down, elbows on his knees and face on his hands. 

“Lou?” Harry murmurs, unsure, stepping into the room and standing with his back to the wall, looking at the other young man. He fidgets with his hands. “Talk to me,” he pleads. 

Louis looks up, and Harry is almost scared for a second at the desperation in his eyes. In a swift movement, Louis stands up and walks to Harry, forcing him against the wall. 

“Louis,” Harry repeats, and then immediately regrets it, because whatever this is he doesn’t want it to stop. Thankfully, Louis, as he always used to do, doesn’t pay any attention and does whatever the hell he wants. Which right now is, apparently, putting a hand on the wall next to Harry’s head and trapping him there. He looks Harry right in the eyes and murmurs something, which Harry doesn’t catch but that sounds oddly like  _ is this alright? _ So Harry nods vehemently, trying to convey that anything Louis wants he can have. 

Louis kisses him. 

It’s just the pressure of some lips against his own, but it’s  _ Louis’ _ lips so it is enough to make Harry go weak in the knees. He feels like he’s going to fall, so he grabs at the front of Louis’ t-shirt and parts his lips in invitation. Louis takes it, deepening the kiss and placing a hand on Harry’s head, tugging lightly at his hair. 

Harry’s so worked up he has to separate for a second to catch his breath, and as he opens his eyes he finds Louis looking at him with a sort of fear, as if scared of the reason why Harry broke the kiss. So Harry kisses him again, and again, and again, just so he doesn’t ever have to see that doubt in Louis’ eyes. 

  
  


Harry wakes up the following morning and Louis is  _ there _ , again. He is there, waist under Harry’s hands, chest under his head, legs in between his own. They kiss before getting up, and then again while making breakfast, and then again after they have breakfast and go back to bed, too lazy and too caught up in each other to stop touching for more than half an hour. 

Louis is  _ there _ , but it’s so much better than the last time. Because now Harry doesn’t have to wonder, or refrain, or hide, or run to the bathroom or feel cold at night or get drunk at noon. They begin to find a routine, and Harry gets used to the way the world works better when Louis is there next to him. They travel their separate ways and perform and work and visit their friends, but even when Harry’s alone in a plane, he looks down at his phone and Louis is there. Even when he’s alone in a hotel bed, he searches his mind and Louis is there. And now, almost always, when he’s alone on the stage, he looks up and Louis is there, smiling down at him. And Harry sings to him, like he’s been singing to him for years even when he wasn’t actually there. And if the fans notice the way his eyes light up and he can’t help his mouth from curling upwards, he doesn’t care, not anymore. This time, he plans on doing it right. Louis is there, and Harry… Harry is ready to be there for him too.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker so any mistake you spot pls tell me.  
> Pls comment and let me know if you liked this!


End file.
